


Head of the Guard

by Bonnie131313, Zoi no miko (zoi_no_miko)



Series: Glamour & Reverie [7]
Category: Changeling: the Dreaming, Dark City (1998), Mirrors (2008)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Changelings, Fae & Fairies, Fauns & Satyrs, First Meetings, Friendship, Gen, Púca | Pooka, Rave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 02:53:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5989521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bonnie131313/pseuds/Bonnie131313, https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoi_no_miko/pseuds/Zoi%20no%20miko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John sneaks out of his father's house and finds himself in over his head. Thankfully, a new friend provides a helping hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Head of the Guard

**Author's Note:**

> Dear co-author, it's always such fun sharing universes with you!

John had honestly figured he could handle it. It wasn’t like he’d spent his whole life in the Freehold. He’d gone out to the City plenty of times, but he’d always been with someone. His father, Anna, a friend, one of the other kith, but none of them is here now.

“You okay?” 

John glances up. A tall boy with red hair and a worried expression is bending over him. John wants to tell him that of course he is fine. He tries to say so, his mouth opens, his lips move but no sound comes out.

“You take something?” The boy wants to know.

“No.” John manages to get out. He knows better than to risk that when he's by himself. “Just too loud.”

The other boy glances around. The music is blaring, the lights flashing, the crowd is rowdy and there are just too many bodies on the dance floor. Whoever had organized this rave had let it get out of hand.

“Come on.” The redhead offers his hand to John. “Let’s get out of here.”

“I…”John hesitates a moment and then takes the other boy’s hand. “Yeah, why not.”

“Come on then,” The boy grins. “I’m Larry by the way.”

“I’m John.”

It wasn't until after they got to the coffee shop that John realized the young man’s furry rave pants weren’t pants at all, but goat legs covered in what looked like feather soft red-brown fur. They ended in cloven hooves that were almost dainty, and under the wide, intricate leather pouch-belt he wore a small tail flicked. “You’re like me!” he blurted out, and Larry turned back to him with a grin.

“Of course I am, kitten. Well, for the most part.”

“Why haven’t I seen you at….” he stopped shy of saying it; even in the middle of the night there were too many mortals here. “Home? Father says everyone’s supposed to report into him if they’re staying in the city.”

“Father…” Larry peered at him a little more closely. “John Murdoch?” He suddenly looked a little nervous, and rather like he was about to bow when John put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“None of that. You helped me. I owe you. Are you not staying in the city?”

“I was hoping to,” Larry said, still looking flustered. “My mentor is bringing me to meet your father tomorrow. I’ll stay if he lets me?”

“I’ll make sure of it,” John promised, the words coming out in a low purr of excitement despite himself. There weren’t many teens his age in the freehold at the moment, and none of them really “got” him; Abby, the Nocker girl, had banned him from their bat cave when he’d switched her shampoo out with a chimerical compound that had made her goth black locks shed hot pink glitter for a week. And the boggan siblings - well, he wasn’t allowed in the laundry anymore.

But a Satyr… they could have _such fun_.

“No mischief kitten.” Larry grins. “Hey what are you doing out here by yourself?”

“I’m eighteen.” John protests indignantly, “Well, almost. Anyhow, I can go out if I want. I don’t need a babysitter.” 

“In other words you snuck out and your dad has every kith in the city looking for you.” Larry is torn. He ought to be worried, the last thing he needs is to piss off Lord Murdoch before he even meets him. At the same time, he can’t help but be amused at the kid’s audacity. 

“With luck he doesn’t know I’m gone.” John sounds a lot more hopeful than he actually felt. His father always seemed to find out whenever John tried to get away with something. 

~~~~

"Just follow my lead and agree with me and you'll be fine," John said, hopping out of the cab without waiting for change. Larry followed more cautiously. There was nothing special about the office building John had directed the cab to: four stories of weathered, sun bleached brick, the small windows shuttered by blinds that even in the dim streetlamps looked grubby and dusty. Not something that anyone would look twice at. Except to Larry's fae sight a few shining tendrils of glamour escaped from the heavy metal double doors, and above them was a sign no human eye could see that read simply, "Freehold".

One of the doors pushed open as John approached, and a blue-skinned troll stepped through, so tall and broad that he barely managed to duck through the doorway. "Your father got your text. He's in the main hall." He turned to glare at Larry as John stepped past him, extending an arm out in front of him that was more like a tree trunk. "He stays outside."

It took Larry every ounce of courage to keep from flinching. He was surprised to hear a disapproving growl from John's throat, his ears flattening against his head as he turned back. The young man's teasing demeanor was replaced by a stern authority."He is my honored, respected and invited guest. He comes with me."

The troll held John's gaze for a long moment with an unwavering glare of his own, then finally dropped it. "Fine. I will escort you."

"Good!" John's ears perked, and he arched up on his tip toes to press a kiss to the troll's cheek. "Love you, Paul! Come on, Lar."

Before Larry knew what was happening he found himself dragged underneath the troll's arm, through the courtyard and into a grand entrance way, all marble and gold gilt and red plush carpet up a grand staircase. Before he knew it John had thrown open the doors to what must be the main hall and rushed inside.

A man stood in the middle of the room talking to a tall female troll, who gave him a respectful nod and stepped aside when she saw John. Even without their likeness, Larry would have known him for John's father, Lord Jonathan, immediately. He stood tall with an air of authority, resplendent in chimerical finery. On one shoulder he wore a lush seal pelt as a sash, and over that a red baldric embroidered with the silver lion of House Fiona. He opened his mouth, but before he could speak John started in a rush.

"Dad! I was having trouble sleeping so I thought I'd take a walk, and then there was this music with this incredible beat like - boots and cats and boots and cats and boots and cats - and it was so compelling that it was almost hypnotic, kinda like magic. I had to follow it. And when I got closer I realized it was a secret party in a community center and there were so many humans with such amazing glamour that I had to take a look and see, but then there was people everywhere and - and drugs! So many drugs, people with pills, people doing lines in the bathroom, people doing lines off other people, and everybody kept offering and it was really overwhelming and there were these really scary people and I thought I might go a bit mad with all the glamour and - "

"John." Lord Jonathan's voice was low and stern, though not as angry as Larry'd been afraid of. "Get to the point."

John nodded, green eyes wide. "I was in trouble, and Larry rescued me. So I owe him a boon. I offered him knighthood in our Esteemed House and a position as head of my personal guard."

Larry stared at him. _What?_

One of the corners of Lord Jonathan's mouth twitched despite his efforts to remain stern. He looked to Larry. "Is this true?"

"I...." Larry hesitated. Despite John's instructions to agree with him, he wasn't willing to blatantly lie to the most important fae in the city. But then again, John's story hadn't been entirely made up.... "The rave was pretty crazy," he admitted finally. "John looked like he needed a helping hand."

"Hm." He regarded Larry for a long moment, then gave a sharp nod towards John. "Stay there. Don't move. You, come with me."

Lord Jonathan pushed past the heavy velvet curtains, stepping into a small alcove. He regarded Larry for a long moment, his liquid-black selkie eyes intent. "You're Alan's foundling, yes? He wrote me about you."

Larry nodded. "Yes, sir. We just arrived this afternoon, we were going to come see you tomorrow. I'm sorry if I've caused trouble....."

"Caused? Heavens no." He glanced back towards the curtains, giving a little shake of his head. "It hasn't been easy raising him. But he is my heir, and I love him dearly. He has a good heart, Larry. He means well, even despite all his wild exaggerations."

"I can tell," Larry replied, and was rewarded with a fond little smile.

"Yes. Despite sounding like he's just saying things to try and get out of trouble, his offer is genuine. But you'd be the first and currently only member of his guard. He's been very resistant to, as he calls them, babysitters. So it would do me a great service if you would accept. I need someone patient enough to mind him, brave enough to guard him, quick enough to keep up with him and shrewd enough to understand the truth hidden in his exaggerations."

His words all felt very overwhelming. "I - sir, if I can be of any service to you, if I can be deemed worthy to - "

"I trust Alan's judgement implicitly," Lord Jonathan said, still smiling, and Larry could feel a soft echo of glamour from him as he spoke, like the remnants of a summer sweet passion from long ago. "But I want to know what you want, Larry. Speak frankly."

Larry hesitated, thinking back on his decision to come with Alan back to the island he'd awoken on. He'd only been visiting then: a daring escape from his father's jail-like house to hop the ferry to the island, applying cheap drugstore glitter eye makeup in the ferry's bathroom on the way. Part of him had known he wasn't going home, his backpack packed with clothes, a fake ID and a concert ticket worth more than gold to him. Waking up to this life had been more wondrous than he ever could have imagined, and Alan...

Alan had been friend, mentor and teacher, more of a father in the three years they'd spent travelling through glen and freehold than his human father had ever been. He didn't want that to end.

"This is Alan's home. I'd like to make it my home, too. If I can do that while helping to bring harmony to your family and perhaps working towards a place in the Esteemed House of Fiona, then it will be my great honor to do so, my Lord."

Lord Jonathan gave a satisfied nod. "Good. Then I'll tell John." He moved towards the curtain, then stopped, turning back to him. "A word of advice?"

"Yes, my lord?"

"The secret to getting John to do what you want," Lord Jonathan told him with a twinkle in his eye, "Is to make him think that it's entirely his idea."

~~ FIN ~~


End file.
